Page 10 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

Matthew laughs. He actually laughs. I gape at him. “What, exactly, is so funny?”

“You really can’t see how fucking romantic what you just said is, can you?” he says. “I’ve never known love until I met you, you gave my life and career meaning, etcetera, etcetera.” He shakes his head. “I don’t know any woman who wouldn’t eat that shit right up.”

“She’s not just any woman,” I snap back before taking a steadying gulp of beer.

“Oh dear lord.” He clasps a hand to his heart. “You’re still going. No wonder you’re a prize-winning poet.”

“A sham of a prize-winning poet,” I correct.

“I strongly disagree,” Matthew says, “and I’d bet this woman would too. At least, if she’s of the caliber you deserve.”

“She’s much more than I deserve,” I say with a shrug.

He grunts in amusement. “Just keep talking to her like you’re talking to me about her, right? You’ll do just fine. Now,” he tips his head back and finishes off his pint, “are we in agreement? Are you going to get the girl or not?” His eyes bore into me, and I find that I’m suddenly nervous.

Will I or won’t I? Is Hollis worth the risk, or is it better to stick with the safety of the life I have without her?

When I put it like that, I know instantly.

I have to try.

I have to tell Hollis how I feel about her.

And yeah, she’s more than worth the risk.

Besides, what kind of love poet would I be if, when finally faced with the real deal, I walked away?

I need to try to make Hollis Watson mine.

I don’t realize that I’ve begun grinning like a damn fool until Matthew points it out.

“There it is,” he says, slapping the table in approval. “There itis. Well done, my friend.”

“I haven’t done a damned thing.”

He stabs a finger at me. “You’ve decided. You’ve decided to go for it. And that’s the hardest part, if you ask me.”

I fix him with an arched eyebrow. “Did I ask you?”

Matthew laughs. “No, but what else am I here for if not to give you unsolicited advice on every aspect of your life?”

He’s joking, but I wouldn’t change a thing. His thoughts are always welcome in my life, asked for or otherwise.

But it’s impossible for me to feel grateful for that now because my mind and heart are so full of thoughts of Hollis and how I can win her heart.

Hollis

Icame to the coffee shop tucked away on the ground floor of the liberal arts building to work on my preschool lesson plans for our last week of class before Thanksgiving break.

Instead, I’m knee-deep in Rowan Keating’s premiere book of poetry with no plans of setting his words aside until I’ve read every one.

Since starting Intro to Poetry, I’ve made it a point to learn everything I can about my teacher. I drank in his interviews and talks on YouTube, read essays written on him and his work, and of course devoured all of his books.

But none of it compares to his first book,Sex, Love, and Other Cataclysms.

I love it.

But not for the reasons everyone else seems to.

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